


stuck together

by nightswatch



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Claustrophobia, M/M, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 20:37:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire gets stuck in an elevator. With Enjolras, of all people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stuck together

Grantaire had had many jobs, and he had been fired from many jobs, and he hadn’t cared, not a single time. He’d worn silly costumes to advertise fast food restaurants, had tried talking unsuspecting tourists into going to Off-Broadway shows that were so far off Broadway that they technically couldn’t even be referred to as such, had delivered pizza, and fancy gourmet food, he’d worked in three grocery stores, five cafés and a souvenir store. And that’s not even all of it.

About 64 percent of the time he’d been fired, because, quite honestly, Grantaire was pretty much the worst fuck up dwelling in this beautiful city.

Right now, he had two jobs. One in an up and coming restaurant that paid well enough that he didn’t have to go and find a third job and one as a delivery guy. He delivered express packages all around Manhattan. On his rusty bike. Some might think he had a death wish. That wasn’t entirely untrue.

Anyway, the latter was a job that he didn’t particularly enjoy, but he was still incredibly keen on not losing it. Because that job was the reason he got to go to the offices of Lamarque International in Lower Manhattan several times a week.

Today he only had a couple of letters and a package for Mr. Courfeyrac, who was an incredibly cheerful guy and who always got a donut for Grantaire from their office kitchen every time he showed up. However, he wasn’t the reason he liked the offices of Lamarque International quite so much. The reason for _that_ was the blonde angel who seemed to practically live in the office next to Mr. Courfeyrac’s.

His name was Mr. Enjolras – hard-working, hardly ever in a good mood and extremely hard to ignore.

To say Grantaire had a crush on him would have been an overstatement, after all he barely knew the man, but he was undoubtedly one of the most attractive human beings Grantaire had ever laid eyes on and he quite frequently found himself thinking about how it would feel to run his fingers through those beautiful blonde curls or to, well, make him scream his name in one fashion or another.

Both thoughts were equally creepy, and Grantaire was well aware of that.

It wasn’t like any of that was going to happen anyway, Enjolras was a business man, no matter how much good Lamarque’s company did, or at least tried to do, no matter how many charities they supported, it was pretty damn clear that Enjolras was completely out of his league and would never even consider exchanging more than a few necessary words with someone like Grantaire.

Except for that one time when Enjolras had told him about some charity housing project he’d been working on with one of his colleagues, Mr. Combeferre, the nice one with the glasses, who always had a smile for Grantaire, no matter how stressed he seemed to be. And Grantaire had told him that he’d probably have to rethink those plans, like the idiot he was, because they’d been downright utopian and they’d almost started yelling at each other, hadn’t Mr. Courfeyrac come in to ask if everything was alright.

Grantaire had left as quickly as possible, but their discussion had quickly started up again the next time he had set foot in Mr. Enjolras’ office. It had been going on like that for about two months now and Enjolras’ colleagues had long since stopped checking on them.

So that was that.

Grantaire pointedly did not sneak a glance into Mr. Enjolras’ office after he’d delivered what he’d had to deliver and had been handed a donut with rainbow sprinkles and headed straight for the elevator.

The doors had just begun to close when someone else slipped into the elevator. Someone wearing an all too familiar red jacket. He’d seen that one in Mr. Enjolras’ office about a billion times. Great. Not that he didn’t want to be alone in an elevator with a ridiculously handsome guy, it was just that said ridiculously handsome guy hated his guts. Or his opinions. It didn’t matter, there was no difference.

“Oh, you,” he said, nodding at Grantaire. He put down his briefcase and pulled out his phone, ignoring Grantaire completely.

Grantaire didn’t mind, didn’t acknowledge his presence in any way and took to sullenly staring at the big red numbers slowly declining, until—

The lights flickered and suddenly Grantaire’s stomach gave a jolt. Oh for fuck’s sake, this couldn’t be happening. Not only was he on an elevator with a ridiculously handsome man, no, now he was also stuck on an elevator with him.

“What just happened?” Mr. Enjolras asked. His voice sounded strangely unsteady, not at all like Grantaire remembered it.

“Looks like we’re stuck,” Grantaire said dryly. “Between the fourth and the fifth floor, it seems. At least it won’t be a far fall when we plunge to our deaths.” It had meant to be a joke, but the horrified look on Enjolras’ face quickly made him realize that he didn’t think it was funny at all. “Hey, relax,” Grantaire mumbled.

He leaned forward to press the call button, and a crackling voice told him that building maintenance was aware of the problem and were working on the issue. Grantaire thanked them and turned back to Enjolras, who still looked mildly terrified.

“Better get comfortable,” Grantaire said, slipped off his coat and sat down on the floor. “Might take them a while to get us out of here.”

Enjolras huffed. “Fantastic.”

“Come on, sit down,” Grantaire told him and took a bite of his donut. “You want some?”

Enjolras shook his head and watched as Grantaire devoured his food, completely still in his corner. “How long do you think it’s going to take them?”

“How would I know?” Grantaire mumbled. “Are you sure you don’t want to sit down?”

Once again, Mr. Enjolras shook his head. “You already moved around, I think I heard the ropes creaking.”

Grantaire frowned, looking up at him. He really didn’t look well. There was a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, he was pale, and his hands were trembling, but only very slightly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Enjolras hissed. “I just don’t like elevators. Or being stuck in them, for that matter. Same goes for small spaces in general.”

“You’re claustrophobic?” Grantaire asked incredulously. Well, _shit_.

Enjolras nodded, smiling weakly.

“Oh,” was all Grantaire managed. He realized he should try to comfort him somehow, because he must be pretty close to a panic attack, and Grantaire knew quite well how that felt. “Come sit with me,” he said, patting the floor beside him.

Enjolras did, very slowly, sighing deeply when he was finally sitting down.

“Just keep taking deep breaths, okay?” Grantaire mumbled, refraining from just taking his hand. That probably wouldn’t be the best idea, even though they’d known each other for months, they hardly knew each other. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“You know my name,” he said gruffly.

Grantaire rolled his eyes. But yes, of course he did, they’d just never introduced themselves. “A bit cranky, are we?”

“I’m stuck in an elevator,” he complained. _With you_ , was what he didn’t say, but what he’d surely added in his mind. “I’m allowed to be cranky. Anyway, just call me Enjolras.”

Grantaire hummed thoughtfully.

“And you are?” Enjolras inquired. “You’ve never told me. You’ve been red beanie delivery guy for months now.  What happened to that beanie anyway? You were always wearing it, I remember the first time you came into my office, you were completely soaked and you wrung out that stupid thing and got my whole office wet.”

Grantaire stared at him for a few long seconds, not quite sure why Enjolras remembered the first time he’d come barging into his office. “Well, summer happened and now I just can’t seem to find it anymore.” He really missed that beanie. “And my name’s Grantaire,” he added and held out his hand for Enjolras to shake.

“My hands are sweaty,” Enjolras muttered. “Let’s postpone the handshaking.”

Grantaire smiled, hoping it looked somewhat reassuring. “Don’t worry, we’ll be out of here in no time.”

“I sure hope so.”

“How bad is it?” Grantaire asked. “Your claustrophobia, I mean.”

“Bad enough,” Enjolras replied, nervously twisting his hands. He grew quiet afterwards, and Grantaire could do nothing but listen to his shallow breathing, wondering if he should try to distract him from the fact that he was trapped in an elevator or if he should just leave him be, because his blabbering might only make it worse.

He tapped away on his phone, cursing quietly, probably realizing that there was next to no signal in here.

After a while Grantaire’s eyes fluttered shut, and Enjolras’ fingers closed around his wrist instantly. “What are you doing?”

“Just resting my eyes.”

“Don’t,” Enjolras said intently. “Please. I don’t want to be in here on my own.”

“You’re not,” Grantaire said and awkwardly patted his arm. “I’m right here.”

“Not when you’re asleep.”

“Oh, I see. Well, better try to keep me awake then. Tell me something.” He’d never get a better opportunity to actually get to know Enjolras, maybe he should just make the best of it.

Enjolras raised his eyebrows. “Like what?”

“I don’t care. Anything. What did you have for breakfast this morning?” Grantaire asked.

“Coffee,” Enjolras answered immediately.

“That’s it? Just coffee?”

“Yes?” Enjolras shrugged. “I didn’t really have the time for anything more than that.”

“You didn’t have the time?” Grantaire couldn’t believe this guy.

“I’m very busy,” Enjolras told him. He sounded completely serious.

It was incredibly how some people just made their whole life about their work. “Of course you are. Do you ever have fun or are you just busy all the time?”

“I do have fun,” Enjolras mumbled. “Occasionally.”

“And what do you do when you have fun?”

“I, um... I went to the cinema the other day.”

“Wow, that’s incredible,” Grantaire whispered.

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I meet up with my friends.”

“Oh, you do socialize every now and then?”

“Obviously.”

Grantaire snorted. “Okay, then.”

“My turn. What’s your favorite color?” Enjolras asked.

“Green. That was a really boring question, I’m pretty sure you could do better.”

“Fine. What’s your favorite food?”

Grantaire grinned. “Pizza.”

“That was a really boring answer,” Enjolras said, lips twitching.

Grantaire really wanted to kiss him. He just leaned his head back against the wall, just looking instead of doing something he’d come to regret. “A boring answer to another boring question,” he mumbled.

Enjolras chuckled. “I like pizza, too.”

“Oh look, something we agree on,” Grantaire mused. “I didn’t think I’d live to see that.”

“Indeed.” Enjolras started tapping his fingers against his knee, a constant reminder for Grantaire that Enjolras was doing his very best not to freak out. “So, how does one come to... deliver things.”

“Occasionally one is in need of money,” Grantaire said with a sigh.

“Would you say it is the job of your dreams?”

“Oh, definitely, I love nearly getting run over by crazy Manhattan taxi drivers on a daily basis.”

“Are you going to get in trouble for being stuck here?”

Grantaire shook his head. “Nah, this was my last delivery. I might be late for my evening shift at the restaurant, though. I’d be a pity to lose that job, the tips are fantastic.”

“You have two jobs?” Enjolras asked.

“Not everyone is part of the one percent, man.”

“I’m aware,” Enjolras grumbled. “And I’m not either, by the way.”

“Your family is, though, right? You have that rich kid look.” Grantaire could imagine it – probably went to private school, graduated from some Ivy League college, spent his summers in some huge mansion on the Hamptons.

“Let’s not talk about my parents,” Enjolras said, almost pleaded. He stretched his feet and for a second it almost looked like he was going to rest his head against Grantaire’s shoulder. He didn’t.

Grantaire tried very hard not to be disappointed.

They fell silent then, until suddenly Enjolras’ head snapped up. “What was that?”

Grantaire raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t heard anything. “Nothing,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, everything’s fine.”

Enjolras took a deep breath and nodded. “Right, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Exactly.”

“What if the ropes rip, though?” Enjolras asked quietly. “You know, that has happened before. It’s a perfectly reasonable thing to be afraid of.”

“Enjolras, you need to calm down,” Grantaire said slowly.

“I can’t,” Enjolras whined. “I’m stuck in a metal death-trap.”

“Just-”

“No, I’m serious, and it’s really hot in here and we’re probably running out of oxygen.”

“First of all, I’m pretty sure that elevators are not completely airtight,” Grantaire told him, trying to ignore that he was starting to get a little anxious as well. He was fine, everything was fine, he needed to concentrate on Enjolras. “And you might want to take off your jacket.”

“Okay,” Enjolras said, nodding, and shrugged out of his jacket.

“And loosen your tie.” Enjolras did. He looked like a mess. Grantaire still wanted to kiss him. “Better?”

“Not really,” Enjolras breathed.

Grantaire bit his lip, trying to think of ways to calm him down. “Right, okay, come here.”

“You want to hug me?”

“Well, I thought it might help.”

Enjolras stared at him for a moment, then he slumped against him, quite ungracefully and with an exhausted sigh.

It was strange, holding him like this, but he could feel Enjolras relax, could feel him burrow closer when he started rubbing circles on his back, and eventually Grantaire even dared to stroke those beautiful curls.

Enjolras’ eyes fluttered shut and he sighed again, but differently this time, contently, and Grantaire felt something tingle in his stomach, and oh, this was bad, really, really bad, because they’d both leave this elevator in the foreseeable future and then they’d go back to despising each other. And Grantaire didn’t want that. He wanted more conversations. More hugs. More of Enjolras.

“Better now?” he asked after a while.

“Hm, yes,” Enjolras muttered. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Well, you don’t really want to deliver stuff for the rest of your life, do you?”

What sort of question was that? Obviously not. “No, of course not.”

“What do you want to be?”

“I went to art school,” Grantaire said, thinking about his days at college, “I wasn’t bad, you know. But there’s not hell of a lot you can do with an art degree. You know, some people become famous artists and others become delivery guys.”

He’d tried, he’d tried very hard, he’d done whatever he could, but it just hadn’t worked out for him in the end.

“If someone asked you to design an ad campaign, could you do it?”

“I suppose?” He’d done it before, not on a large scale, but there was no reason why he wouldn’t be able to do it again. “You’re not going to offer me a job, are you?”

“No, but one of my friends works in advertising, I could ask her to-”

“You don’t have to do me any favors just because I’m stroking your hair to keep you from freaking out on me, really.”

“I’m not freaking out.”

“Right,” Grantaire said and dropped his hand.

“Why did you stop?”

“Do you want me to keep going?”

“Please.”

Grantaire did, ignoring that his legs were starting to fall asleep until he eventually gave in. “Okay, you’ll have to let me get up for a second.”

Enjolras moved to stand up as well, took off his suit jacket and tossed it on top of his coat.

“Did you always want to be... whatever it is you are?” Grantaire asked, pacing back and forth as best as he could.

Enjolras tugged his fingers through his hair. “I’ve always wanted to make a change, and that’s what I’m doing, so the answer is yes.”

“Are you really?” Grantaire asked doubtfully.

“Am I what?” Enjolras inquired.

“Changing the world? Because to me it seems about as shitty as it’s always been,” Grantaire said. He was aware that it wasn’t the best idea to start a fight in an elevator, where neither of them could go anywhere, but he wouldn’t keep his mouth shut either.

“It’s not like everything just going to be perfect from one day to another,” Enjolras said loudly and took a step towards Grantaire.

“Oh please, nothing’s _ever_ going to be perfect,” Grantaire drawled. “Thinking that is just delusional.”

“But things are going to be better,” Enjolras insisted, now towering over Grantaire. He was quite impressive, you had to give him that. “They _are_ getting better.”

“Ah, I feel really sorry for you,” Grantaire mumbled, “because one day you will be very, very disappointed.”

Enjolras stared down at him, eyes ablaze. “We’ll see about that,” he hissed.

“Sure, don’t let me ruin your aspirations,” Grantaire retorted, smirking.

“I won’t.”

“Good for you.”

They were impossibly close. Grantaire hadn’t even noticed that he’d moved, but he’d somehow ended up in the middle of the elevator, practically face to face with Enjolras. Only that Enjolras was a little taller and now looking down at him, completely still, slightly out of breath from all the yelling, his lips parted.

God, Grantaire still wanted to kiss him.

What if he leaned in closer instead of taking a step back, what if he just weren’t a coward for once in his life and just tried? His hand settled at Enjolras’ hip and Enjolras didn’t move, which he took as a good sign.

He raised his other hand to curl it around Enjolras’ neck. “Tell me if you-”

“Go on,” Enjolras whispered.

“Okay.” He was going to kiss a ridiculously handsome guy in an elevator.

Grantaire had to stand on his tiptoes, but Enjolras made it easy for him, wrapped an arm around him and drew him closer, his lips soft and pliant beneath his. Grantaire’s hands wandered back into Enjolras’ hair, as before, tugging slightly when Enjolras deepened the kiss.

He hardly noticed when the elevator started moving again, but when he finally pulled away from Enjolras they’d almost reached the ground floor and Grantaire barely had time to collect himself before there was a _ding_ , and the doors opened.

Someone from building maintenance was waiting for them to apologize when they stepped out of the elevator. Luckily Enjolras didn’t notice when Grantaire made a quick escape.

 

* * *

They saw each other again two days later. It hadn’t been enough time for Grantaire to get his thoughts into order, but at least he felt like he could face Enjolras again.

“Important letter for you, Sir,” Grantaire said as he walked into Enjolras office.

“Where did you run off to the other day?” Enjolras asked, looking almost offended. “I wasn’t done talking to you.”

Grantaire grinned. “Weren’t you?”

Enjolras blushed furiously. “Well, I…” He picked up a piece of paper and handed it to Grantaire. “This is my friend’s phone number. She said she’d love to hear from you.”

Grantaire glanced at the name on the paper. Cosette Fauchelevent, Valjean Advertising. “Your friend doesn’t even know me.”

“She does, actually. Not personally, of course, but apparently you were featured in some art exhibition a while ago? Unless that was some other person named Grantaire.”

Right. That. “Oh, well… yes, that was me, but-”

“Just call her. Don’t let this opportunity slip through your fingers just because you don’t like me.”

“What makes you think I don’t like you?”

“First of all, you think all my efforts are worthless,” Enjolras said calmly.

“That’s not what I said,” Grantaire protested.

“Feel free to correct me.”

“I just think you’re incredibly naïve and don’t see the flaws in your oh so fantastic plans. I didn’t say they were good for nothing. Just for the record, I do like you. And not just because you have incredibly soft hair.”

Enjolras looked about ready to throw him out of his office, or maybe he just wanted to kiss Grantaire again, there was no way of telling. “Have you had lunch yet?”

“It’s nearly five, of course I’ve had lunch.”

Enjolras’ eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. “Right. What about dinner? Have you had dinner?”

“I… no.”

“Would you like to… have dinner?”

“With you?”

“I thought that was clear,” Enjolras said. “I mean, we… in the elevator, we… that was nice.”

“It was,” Grantaire agreed. And he would just love to do it again. “The thing is, you don’t know me. You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

“I know that we both like pizza. So let’s just go have pizza.”

Grantaire sighed. “Okay, let’s go have pizza.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know how this happened, but yeah.


End file.
